Adam & Eve
Guidance

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” a low voice drowned with flem sounded through the Confessional.

“Tell me child,” a kind voice received the confession.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” the low voice repeated itself.

“It's alright child, the lord will forgive you if you repent,” the kind voice impelled.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” the low voice was broken up by sobs of remorse.

“What have you done,” the kind voice broke it's unforceful coercion.

“Forgive me,” the low voice stopped and silence congested the Confessional. “Forgive me, for I have killed another.”

“The lord forgives you, what have you done child,” the kind voice compelled the man to speak of his sins.

“I have killed another child,” the low voice started to explain. “another innocent in my quest for the original sinners.”

“I don't understand,” the kind voice of the priest turned to an “ignorant” and inquisitive voice.

“Decretum de Divus,” the low voice answered blindly.

“Decree of God,” the priest asked himself and the low voice at the same time.

“I have said too much; I must leave,” the low voice abruptly stated as the priest listened to noises confirming the being who owned the low voice was leaving.

“Repentence, you must repent child,” the priest tried to reach the leaving sinner.

A man in a long dark drench coat stepped out of the Confessional and into the poorly lit church sanctuary. His pale face colored with reds and blues, and oranges and browns from the stained glass in back of the podium. He squinted at the beautiful scene unable to take in the holy bliss before him. As soon as he recovered from the scene he started walking slowly with a limp in his right leg towards the podium.

* * *

"The Day of Recognition is upon us," an unshaven, elderly man with a yellow painted wooden sign, with 'The End' written, over his shoulders wailed into the crowed of never ending commuters on the sidewalk. "You must be prepared for the Day of Recognition!" What little of his hair was left bounced as he flailed his body in strange movements and his eyes bulged unnaturally. Some passed by and looked with a mocking grin of disapproval, while others simply ignored the man. "You must repent."

"You there," the old man grabbed a young man wearing all black. The jerk from the old man caught the young man off gaurd and he bumped the old man onto the ground. To the near by officer it was just another punk with earings, tatoos and a chain that was picking on an old man.

"Are you ok," the young man quickly asked as the old man looked up with resentment.

"You must repent," the old man flung his body at the young man.

The young man dodged the impending attack while screaming back, "Shut up, you old freak."

Oz quickly turned around and started to run. After his first step he felt his body jerked backwards and his long dark brown hair seemed to disregard the rest of the body. Oz turned around to see the old man holding his arm and quickly ripped his arm out of the clutches of the old delusional man. Oz started to fall face first into the pavement, but stopped his fall with his left hand and started running with his other friends through the crowd.

Running until he saw his friends turn into an small alleyway Oz bent over panting from the sprint. His whole body moved with each breath and his mouth opened wide to receive as much air as he could. Oz’s friends laughing at the situation while leaning against a red bricked wall faded while he concentrated on breathing.

“Shit Oz, what the hell was that kook doin’,” one of Oz’s friends asked with half a breath.

“He grabbed me,” Oz answered monotonous with his breath back.

“You didn’t have ta take ‘im out though,” another friend teased.

“Shut the hell up Frank,” Oz snapped with a smirk. He ran his long fingers through his long hair and murmured. “Shit.”

* * *

“Sir, we found them,” a man spoke with out confidence as he walked through a doorway into a darkened room.

In front of the standing man was another man sitting behind a well polished conference table. The shades behind him pulled down to let only a sliver of sunlight to shine in. The light illuminated his silhouette to make his dark presence even darker. His reading glass glared from the lights bouncing off of the polished table in front of him. The man sitting folded his lightened hands and monotonously asked, “Your name?”

“Gneus sir,” the standing man answered quickly with a shiver of fear. He knew his old name was irreverent now that he was a full time Knight. “At a high school, that’s where you’ll find the Sinners.”

“Thank you Gneus,” the sitting man responded with benevolent gratuity. “You may leave.”

As the door shut a man in a black suit came from the shadows in the corner to the left of the sitting man. “What will you do Caesar?”

“Augustus, send two knights and squires to this high school,” the sitting man answered.

“Will that be enough,” Augustus questioned as he put on a black brimmed hat to conceal his face from the light.

“No, that’s why I want you to send the first rider as well,” Caesar instructed.

“Is that necessary,” Augustus quickly asked.

“No, but Decretum de Divus must happen,” Caesar defended his decision. “It’s the Word of God. Don’t forget that Augustus.”

“Yes sir, I will report back when we complete our mission.” Augustus said as he rounded the edge of the conference table and went to the center to stand in front of Caesar. “Although it seems a bit much and I think it’s a little to early to be sending a rider.”

While Augustus started walking away from the table, Caesar thought to himself, “The Word of God, we must defend it at all costs. We must complete Decretum de Divus, at all costs. At all costs? Is this what you want? At all costs.”

* * *

“So you’re actually in school today,” a brunette haired girl asked while walking towards Oz in a long hallway lined with grey lockers. Her hair curved towards her chin encasing her face. Her eyes lit like freshly polished green jade. She stood a little shorter than Oz, but was just as thin. She cradled a book and a folder towards her chest as she glided through the hall towards Oz.

“I decided to piss off some teachers today,” Oz sarcastically commented. “How’s it going Aki?”

“Well, here’s what you missed yesterday,” Aki pulled out a couple of papers stapled together from her manila folder under her book and handed it to him with a smile. She turned to walk away, but before she started she turned her head around, that made her hair flail, to look at Oz and answered with a smile, “And I’m fine, thank you.”

Oz watched Aki walk away from him, as she seemed like the only one in the hall; all others in the hall void. Her hair bounced on the shoulders of her navy blue short sleeved shirt, which hugged her body tightly, with every step. The sides of the hall seemed to get brighter when he focused on her more. He heard her siren’s laugh and found himself overwhelmed with amusement. He knew Aki ever since the beginning of high school, but never showed any interest out front.

Abruptly interrupted, Oz felt a sharp pain in the side of his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blurry image of the backhand of a fist. He let go of his knees and on his descent to the ground he looked up and saw a man dressed in off white grey clothes. Oz saw the man’s arm was raised slightly and jabbed at the man’s armpit. In his desperate punch, Oz forgot to think of the consequences.

As the man’s hand hit the lockers another man with the same clothes, but holding a 9mm, noticed it first. The man without the gun was choking on something. At first he held his throat with one hand, but he put the other hand to relative good use too. It seemed as if the man was trying to hold on to what ever he was choking on. The man with the gun was point his gun at Oz, but he was trembling so greatly that his shot would never have hit Oz.

Oz looked at the choking man in astonishment. Time seemed to slow down as Oz watched the man’s frantic movements. For the first time Oz saw his assailant in full description. The assailant was barely a man; he was no more than 20. His short brown hair was only long enough for short movements and his brown eyes widened with each second as the assailant’s breathe lessened. The assailant’s grey pants touched the white tiled linoleum floor as he tried one last desperate attempt to regain his regular breathe. Unable to regain any air, the boy fell face first towards the floor in defeat, only to quiver randomly while his life faded into nothingness.

As the boy lay on the floor twitching occasionally, Oz stared at his reaction in horror, but then noticed the man with the gun. The man with the gun was watching the boy on the floor jerks become less and less. The man’s hair, just as short as the boy’s, was dirty brown and his eyes a light blue. The man was a little older than the boy, but still a threat to Oz.

While the man with the gun was watching his friend slowly die, Oz quickly got up and started to walk towards him ominously. With little hesitation, and little understanding of his strength, Oz took one hand and grabbed the man’s hand that was holding the gun and took the other fist and punched in the middle of the forearm of the man with the gun. As Oz’s fist connected there was a large cracking sound and bone protruded from the man’s arm. The man with the gun dropped the gun and stepped back in amazement and pain.

With the sharp sound of the gun hitting the floor, the pain of the arm echoing through the halls, and fear in his eyes, Oz put as much strength as he had into one punch. His fist met a greeting jaw and felt oddly familiar. Oz’s breathe steadied as he watched the man holding his broken and bleeding arm lift off his feet and hit the lockers a little less than a meter away. The top half of the back of the man’s head hit the lockers first and his neck snapped the body parallel with the head. The man slumped over and fell to the ground in an uncomfortable position.

Oz looked down the hall at the aghast onlookers’ faces. On man lay dead on the floor and another slumped unconscious, while the cause lay in a ruined face. His mind flourished with adrenaline and images of the past events enfolded. His actions past and his thoughts present, the cause’s understanding of his actions caught up with him. As he comprehended the events, a sharp pain in the back of his head showered his eyes with black and his knees gave way to pain. Through echoes and slurred speeches Oz heard screams and some dark conversation.

“The girl,” a deep voice sounded.

“What about,” a second voice faded away.

Oz misplaced about minute through darkness and came back with blurred vision and impaired hearing. He heard what he thought was Aki’s voice over a throbbing pain in the back of his head. Her screams urged him to wake up despite the pain. His first try met failure when his arms buckled and sent him back to his origin on the hard floor. The pain shot through his chest and out his mouth with blood being its symbol. With his vision improving he could make out two men dressed in what seemed like tan overcoats. One of the men was behind Aki holding her arms back while her tan legs whipped viciously in struggle. The other man was in front of Aki holding something in his hands and chanting some kind of incomprehensible language. Occasionally the flailing legs of Aki met the man’s shins in front of her and he would stall his chant. The two men seemed to be calm amidst Aki’s apparent terror and frantic shrieks, all other signs of life left the hall in a hurry.

With the visual confirmation of the assault, Oz tried once more to lift himself. This time he used his knee to assist his weakened arms. When he could kneel he slumped forward and looked to the side at the unconscious man in grey. At first he couldn’t think, but then he heard another of Aki’s screams and he snapped back to reality. In a tempestuous search for anything worthy of saving Aki, Oz noticed the gun the man was holding earlier.

Instinctively at the sight, Oz picked up the gun with his right hand. He grasped the handle loosely unknowing of what he would do. He tightened his grip on the handle, but loosened it after he felt the rough surface of the sides of the handle. Like a child learning of something new, Oz stared at the edge of the barrel of the 9mm. The image before him blurred to stimulate the crisp image of the newly founded weapon shaking in his hands.

After another one of Aki’s screams Oz raised the gun, straightened his arm, and pointed it at the image of a man holding a knife and chanting. Never firing a gun in his life, the gun trembled violently in the hands of the inexperienced Oz and would only fire unless Oz found a way to regain structure.

Yet another scream from Aki filled Oz’s ears and thoughts of anger and passed safety dealt another blow to Oz as he contemplated his next move with scrutiny. His mind raced with “what ifs,” doubt, and possibilities only to reiterate in an endless circle of confusion that meshed reality and impossibility together.

As he deliberated, Oz felt the cold touch of a strand of his hair fall and hit his face. Suddenly his rubber band holding his hair snapped and his dark brown hair fell over his face like a mask. Exactly when his hair fell, his arm stood straight out with no movement. All thoughts left his mind and a new thought corroded the inner sanctity of sanity. His eyes straightened and his glare became bloodthirsty. With his hair as his mask, Oz turned murderous with little conscious or concern for anyone other than the one he decided to protect with his life, Aki.

He cocked back the hammer of the 9mm and made a loud sharp noise that silenced any activity. With the familiar sound in their minds both men jolted their heads in the direction of the sound. The man holding Aki loosened his grip slightly and the other man clearly holding a knife in one hand made of precious gems and gold loosened his grip slightly on the knife as well. They found the face of fatality staring down the barrel of a 9mm towards their despicable activities. With their lives riding on the experience of a boy, Oz squeezed the trigger of the gun comfortably and without hesitation.

As the gun jumped towards his face he followed the bullet as it shot towards its target. Time literally slowed down in his eyes as he watched the grooves of the bullet spin clockwise and the burning back end of the bullet glowed red like his eyes. His eyes chased the bullet as it approached a horrified man lie in wait for his god’s deliverance. Oz watched the bullet enter the bridge of the man’s nose and watched the dark red substance exit in the place of the bullet spray out the back of the man’s head.

While first man followed his own blood and the curved knife made of gems and gold fell towards the ground, the man holding Aki released his grip with an inviting, widening mouth. Oz quickly rotated his arm and fired another shot in the direction of the open mouth man. Time released its slowing grip on Oz and both men seemed to drop to the floor at almost the same time.

Oz quickly ran towards the frozen Aki and the two dead men lying on the floor. His gun narrowly missing his face in his frantic dash, Oz disregarded the two bodies lying on the floor with open bleeding wounds and held out his hand for Aki.

“Aki, we need to go,” Oz pleaded with Aki, but with no response from the frozen girl he resorted to increasing his volume. “Aki!”

Again Aki frozen stared blankly at Oz with disbelief and confusion. For the four years she knew Oz she never saw him anger once or even hurt anything. His temper never got out of control because he walked away from every situation calmly and passively. In less than four minutes she watched him kill three and severely injure another. She questioned how much she could trust him now that he’s killed.

“Aki! We need to go,” Oz continued to beseech her apparent coma. He lightly grabbed her hand out of desperation, but stopped when he felt a little tug.

“No, go that way,” Aki decided to stay loyal to her friend and pointed in the direction of the two men in grey and the pivotal position of Oz’s transformation. “I have a bad feeling about that way.”

“Ok let’s go,” Oz said in a trusting voice and started to run while still holding her hand.

Never holding her hand too tightly to hurt her, Oz urged Aki to run faster as he lightly tugged at her hand. Every other step he took time to look back at Aki to ensure himself of her safety. Her eyes evidently concerned about her decision haunted Oz, but he understood the danger they both were in. Pressing on, he continued abjure her to move faster.

About when they reached the two limp bodies dressed in grey they suddenly heard a cracking noise. They both stopped just in front of the carnage of two limp bodies to investigate the sudden sound. Inquisitively they dared not to run until the were certain of the origins of the strange noise.

Looking more closely Oz noticed the linoleum floor bulging and cracking in the middle of the bulge. As the bulge pulsed more and more, in and out, Oz guided Aki behind him with his hand and with out words. Slowly and reluctantly, Oz released his grip and slid his hand out of Aki’s hand’s embrace. He then let his right hand receive the gun from his left and readied his arm in case of an unwanted fight.

The bulge gave way to the floor completely protruding from its native position and cracks splintered into fragments to let loose an image Aki and Oz weren’t prepared to see. The bulge died down for a few seconds as an ominous roar gave way. As the horrid roar ended, one final burst of pressure shattered the remnants of the hardened floor and a dark creature came forth in the chaos of the moment.

To the edges of the dark creature the blackness faded as if a cloud and in the center a void of darkness impenetrable by any light. The only contrast in color on the beast was its red eyes that glowed a menacingly bright red. The size of the beast seemed unsurpassable as only half of the body of this beast rose from the first floor to the hallway in the second floor to greet Oz and Aki. The present calamity of something this supernatural struck terror in both Oz and Aki, more than they have ever previously experienced.

Suddenly, without any warning and from empty space, a dark figure appeared between the beast, and Oz and Aki. With an overcoat that frayed at the edges his dark boots and blackened pants were the only other sign of clothing. He stood a little taller than Oz and his hair, the same color as Oz’s, was a little longer than Oz’s as well. The dark figure also had the same runic tattoos on the bottom forearm as Oz. Barely visible, the arcing scabbard of a sword protruded out from the ripped seems of fabric giving little doubt to the reasons and purpose of the dark figure interrupting.

“Run,” the dark figure responded to Aki and Oz’s silence with a voice a little lower than Oz’s. “I’ll hold off this idiot.”

With silence continuing to be their response, the dark figure turned around and showed his face. Although his hair covered most of his eyes, his maroon colored eyes still extruded fictionally. His facial structure was also similar to Oz’s relatively thin face, but on the right side of his neck seemed to be the beginnings of an agonizing scar. Dark figure looked disturbingly similar to Oz in almost all aspects.

“Take this,” the dark figure threw a sheathed straight sword and threw it at Oz, and Oz fumbled with his catch as he still had a gun in one hand. “You’ll need that later.”

After Oz crouched down towards the unconscious man near him, taking something off the body, the dark figure turned back around and waited to hear the running footsteps of two. When he finally heard the starts of a young dash he drew his sword. His black sword arc ever so slightly and even the blade was darker than it should be. On the back side of the sword a wave of red mimicked blood crawling down the sword.

“I bet you wish to taste my blood,” the dark figure started. “I hope my blade will suffice for you.”

The dark figure readied his stance to attack the baleful creature. Raising his right hand, the hand holding the handle, above a little above his head he angled the blade downward and seemed to guide the blade with his left hand near the tip. He leaned heavily on his left leg ready to spring swiftly and effortlessly. With evil in his eye, the dark figure sprung towards the beast seeming to glide along the ground never taking a step and taking the beast off guard as his target was apparant.